Loquacious Loathing
My effort is minimal, I refuse to work...
the upshot of beleaguering fates, such...
and fraught with perdition's spite. ' Now'
I enjoy distinction, an inverse kind,
I hate more than most! In spite of
significant reserve, I MUST/will boast....
A murky mask? No costume here...
merely a hacked up face...
there, in those stunning, mulish lines,
the sinister of what is...
this and that
a murderous virtue: honesty
goD Dog
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem